Lucky's Lady (The Caversham Chronicles Book 4) (20 page)

She had to relax, as Becky instructed, and let him take the lead. Becky said she needed only to feel and enjoy what he was arousing in her. That, and keep in mind her goal—a chance for a babe of her very own. If she reminded herself of that enough, perhaps she could reconcile herself with the immorality of having an affair. Though truth be told, she wanted this regardless of the reason—making it all the more sinful. She wanted this man. In a primal, hedonistic way, she needed his body to connect with hers.

She felt his nimble fingers untie the bow at her low back while they kissed, she tore her lips from his and presented him her back, lifting her hair and bringing it forward. She looked into his eyes and knew there was no turning back. This was what they'd both wanted from the first day.

Mary-Michael knew herself better than anyone, she was an all-or-nothing kind of girl. She either ate the entire cookie, or none of it. One bite would never satisfy her. Having sex with Lucky and not enjoying it would be like tasting the cooking but never taking a bite. Impossible to do.

She walked a fine line. On one side of that line, she wanted to observe the vows she'd made to her husband and on the other, she wanted this illicit weekend with this man more than anything she'd ever wanted before. Because he could give her the only other thing she wanted in this world now that she had stability in her life.

A child.

Yes, a dilemma indeed. Chemistry already existed between them and it promised fireworks. She hoped the fireworks would be the answer to her prayers because this weekend was the only opportunity she had to conceive before Lucky sailed.

When he had most of the buttons undone, he turned her in his arms. He kissed her as his fingers stroked up the bare skin of her back and pushed the material over her shoulder, leaving her breasts covered. His full, firm lips maneuvered over hers skillfully. Because she'd never been kissed before, she truly had no idea what to do. She'd heard stories of the man's tongue forcing its way into the girls' mouth, and well... there was no forcing going on in this kiss. She sighed and when her lips parted, his tongue ran sensuously over the top of hers, sending a shiver through her. As he kissed her, he caressed her naked back, pulled her closer, and parted her mouth so he could invade.

His tongue skimmed over her teeth and when it touched hers, she groaned. Whether he saw that as an encouraging sign she didn't know, but suddenly his hands were roving over her hips up to her breasts. She held the bodice in place with one hand, and a river of flame coursed through her and she wanted nothing more than to be as close to him as she could possibly get. Her free hand roved up to his hair and she threaded her fingers through the thick, wavy strands. With her thumb, she stroked the curve behind his ear. His hands grasped her bottom and pulled her closer, until she felt his arousal through the layers of clothing separating them.

He moaned and pulled back, leaving her frustrated. She might be inexperienced, but she knew she wanted more of this. She wanted everything. Because only that would give her a child.

"I have to ask, Mary," he gasped, panting against her neck. "Are you certain?"

Was she certain? Had the man paid
any
attention to what she'd been saying or doing since she arrived to his cabin? How could she make it any more clear to him that she wanted to become his lover? She stepped back, and she turned her gaze up to his coffee-colored orbs. Their eyes met and she gave him a smile then turned around, presenting her backside. "Care to help me with the rest of these buttons?"

He groaned, his hands trailing fire all over her as he parted her hair and kissed her nape just below her hairline and then lower still along her unprotected neck, until he met the fabric of her dress. With strong, steady fingers he worked the remaining buttons. The feel of his nimble fingers working the tiny pearl buttons magnified the excitement welling inside her as each one popped free, exposing more of her thin petticoat. When he'd finished, the material parted and the storm-cooled air caressed her skin causing a shiver to race through her. She turned to face him and let the dress slide down her body, revealing the soft cotton petticoat and demi-corset. A part of her wanted to catch the dress as it fell to the floor, and another part of her wanted to be out of her underclothes so he could devour every square inch of her flesh.

He crooked a brow at her. "What's this?" His fingers traced a line downward between her breasts, causing a clenching sensation low in her belly.

She was surprised he'd not come across a demi-corset in his many affairs with women. "I cannot manage a regular corset on my own. So I usually wear this, as it laces in the front. Is it not proper where you are from?"

"I don't know," he said. He stepped closer, lifting her chin so he could look her in the eye while his thumb stroked her cheek softly. "You amaze me." His whispered declaration made her knees wobbly and sent her spiraling into this seductive, dream-like web surrounding them.

His fingers on one hand quickly unlaced the garment and it slid to the floor. While his thumb of the other slid down the column of her neck to rest over her wildly-beating pulse. His lips came down on hers again in a searing kiss, one that coaxed her on, enticing her to meld with him. Mary-Michael forced her hands forward, letting them rest on his hips. She needed to rid him of his clothing. Becky said men like it because it makes them feel desired.

And God help her, but she desired this man out of his trousers and shirt. Her body had wanted nothing more than this from the moment she met him, she couldn't afford to allow her hands to freeze in place. Closing her eyes she felt his body tense as she began to work the shirt free from his britches. As she did that, she kicked off one shoe, then the other, and stepped out of the dress and demi-corset that had pooled at her feet.

She broke the kiss and stepped away from him, the cool air on her skin causing a shiver. "Captain... oh, that's not quite right, is it?" She had to remember to call him by his name. He cocked that arrogant eyebrow at her again. "Lucky," she corrected herself, liking the sound of it. Her nerves were a tangled mess, and her resolve was still somewhat shaky. She couldn't—no, didn't want—to call an end to the evening. She also didn't want
him
to either, should he suspect she was afraid in any way. Her captain impressed her as just enough of a gentleman to do just that.

"It's been a very long time for me." She lied, but Mary-Michael hoped it was a reasonable enough explanation for her skittishness.

"I know." He stepped toward her and his hand brushed the strap of her petticoat off her shoulder. He bent to kiss the flesh he exposed and the simple act caused a clenching reaction in her womanly parts.

Her trembling legs could barely hold her up as he lifted her petticoat over her head and exposed her breasts to him. She felt so inadequate that she crossed her arms over her front and covered her chest with her hands. He ran his finger around the band holding her drawers up at her waist and finding the ribbon, he pulled it and let them drop to the floor as well.

He took her lips with his in yet another kiss, and surprised her when he swept her naked form up in his arms, lifting her as though she weighed nothing. The hair on his forearms tickled the backs of her thighs as he carried her to the bed and lowered her in the center without ever parting lips. His hands caressed her sides without touching her breasts, almost as though he understood her fear, her last thread of hesitance. Backing away, he began to remove his clothing and went through the room extinguishing two of the three lanterns and bolting the door. Mary-Michael drew the covers back on the bed and watched him as he undressed. His entire body was well-muscled and he moved with grace and fluidity for one so tall and large. His naked back was darker than his round bottom, telling her he obviously went around without a shirt quite frequently. A part of her wanted to touch the dimples above the cheeks of his bottom, and stroke her hands along the taut curves and planes all over his body.

Her breath caught in her chest. She was unable to breathe. God he was beautiful. Desiring him was surely going to lead to heartbreak. She had to stop herself from thinking these primal thoughts of the two of them together—mating and satisfying the needs of each other's bodies—surely it was sinful.

Then he turned around to come back to the bed and she got her first look at his manhood. It stood proud and erect, extending upward from its base of dark curls. Much as she should, she couldn't turn away. He was made unlike all the drawings of statues of nudes she'd seen in the past. She wanted to touch him to see if he was real. Or was this another of the cruel dreams he'd been frequenting since they'd met. She clenched her knees together against the wet, quivery sensations that grew stronger in her woman's parts.

Raising her focus from his erect penis, she noticed the rippled and symmetric muscling of his abdomen and knew there was nothing more desirable in all the world. Becky was right. An aroused man's penis was nothing like those images in the books they'd seen in Sister Ignatius' office when they were fourteen.

Lucky came toward her and she lowered her eyes until she felt the mattress shift under his weight. When she raised them, it was to see his lips turned up slightly at the corners and softness in his eyes. He stretched out a hand to stroke her hair as it fanned out on the pillow behind her. The gesture was tender and affectionate, and Mary-Michael relaxed some.

"Would you like more wine?"

He was kind. Too kind. Too gentlemanly. She didn't deserve his kindness for what she was planning to do. She shook her head.

"How are you feeling?"

His fingers stroked her cheek now, and her skin burned under his touch.

"I'm nervous," she confessed.

He leaned over and kissed her temple, then her cheek. His warm, moist breath sent shivers through her. Finally he whispered into her ear, "So am I."

Then he touched her everywhere. And everywhere shards of excitement rippled to her core, creating a feeling there she'd never known before. His lips began to blaze a trail down the slope of her neck, nibbling the tender skin of her collarbone before moving lower still. A mewling sound escaped her as she recognized the sensation of his hot, wet mouth covering her nipples, tormenting her. Any fear she possessed dissipated as she gave herself up to his expert ministrations.

"Touch me, Mary," he whispered against her heated flesh. "I want to feel your touch."

Unaware she grasped the bedding beneath her, Mary-Michael hesitantly reached out and returned his caresses as he encouraged. With a soft growl he slid over her, still tormenting her with his lips and tongue. Her hands played across the ripples of muscle over his shoulders and neck, then forward to his taut arms as they supported his weight. He captured a nipple between his lips and she sucked in a sharp breath as a strong clenching deep within began to build, forcing his name from her lips in a wild cry.

His lips traveled lower still, to her navel. He traced the outer rim, then dipped his tongue in. The shock jolted her causing her to buck up from the bed, and he chuckled. The sensations he stirred inside her were intensifying, making her long for more and more of this. Of him.

With just a light touch on her thigh, he had her opening for him. She was so drunk with desire that she let him do to her what he will. And while Mary-Michael was thankful for his experience and kindness, she didn't want him to be a gentleman right now. She needed something so primal and deep that it frightened her.

His fingers parted her folds and she gave a little welcoming cry. He kissed her mouth once more. A deep, passionate kiss where their tongues caressed each other while his fingers probed her wetness. When he touched her sensitive nub, she whimpered into his mouth. His fingers moved lower to enter her. One, then two, slid in and out, making her insane with want.

He broke the kiss and his lips and tongue danced over her skin, down to the very spot where his fingers just played. She bucked under him and his laughter shook the bed. Surely he wasn't going to do
that!
Then his tongue touched her sensitive nub and she bucked upward. "Lucky, no," she cried.

One of his large hands held her in place, refusing to let her roll away. "Just close your eyes and feel, Mary."

"Surely this is... Ah." She sucked in a breath as his tongue and fingers caused a tension within her to coil deeper and tighter. Then his fingers began to move deep within her. "This is... Oh, God."

She squeezed her eyes shut and the riot of color and light behind her lids exploded along with her entire body as she trembled under his skillful lips, tongue and fingers. Her entire body quivered from the intensity of the climax, and still she wanted more. He'd not mated with her yet, nor had he had his climax. Now Mary-Michael wondered if he wanted to continue.

Lucky raised himself from her and came to lie next to her, where he took one of her hands and kissed the tips of each finger, before placing it on his heart. For several long minutes afterward she trembled. Finally, after a time, she raised onto her elbow and stared at his handsome face as he lay back on the pillow. His arm covered his eyes. Didn't he wish to look at her?

"What's the matter?" She couldn't hide the worry from her voice no matter how she tried. "Was it something I did? I'm sorry if..."

He lifted his arm and she saw his serious expression. "No, please do not think that. It's just..." He paused a moment as if searching for the right words.

She didn't want him to back out, she needed him. Needed his seed. If he couldn't manage to make love to her, then she might never have this opportunity again. Before he could finish she interjected, "I know that I may not be as endowed as other girls, but..."